


Merinthophobia : the aftermath

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sleepy Stiles Stilinski, implied/Referenced non-consensual bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Missed calls, worried Derek, subdropped Stiles, cuddles and careFollowing chapter 14 of my A-Z of Stiles' phobias work, because it hurt me too much to leave it at that.





	Merinthophobia : the aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo if you're reading this without having read the chapter 14 of my work about Stiles' phobias, well don't ! It is the aftermath of the scene taking place in that series, I don't know if it will make much sense as a stand-alone.
> 
> I just had to write the comfort after what happened, just for myself. I couldn't leave in peace without putting down in words that Stiles was safe and cared for, and that he finally got the aftercare he desperately needed.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of it !

Somewhere in Washington DC, in a green park with a few buildings filled with rooms and young people, it was raining.  
  
It was early January and the light wind was freezing and sharp as needles, and the clouds were gray but not too dark.  
  
And the rain was heavy and stinging, and it felt like minuscule glass shards falling on your cold skin as you were running towards a shelter.  
  
Somewhere in that green park, but it really was a campus, there was a boy who wasn't running like everyone else. His bare feet were being covered in mud as he struggled to push his trembling body away from a door.

Somewhere in New York, in a white park with a few benches covered by ice and shivering people, it was snowing.  
  
It was early January and the light wind was freezing and sharp as needles, and the clouds were gray but not too dark.  
  
And the snow was heavy and stinging, and it felt like minuscule glass shards falling on your cold skin as you were running towards a shelter.  
  
Somewhere in that white park, and it really was a park, there was a man who wasn't running like everyone else. His booted feet were being covered in snowflakes as he breathed into the night, enjoying the silence.  
  
He liked the calm winter brought, and the tranquil rhythm of a city in late evenings.  
The park was almost empty, save some homeless people and loners like him who came out of their cramped apartments to enjoy standing under the shower of snowflakes and disappear from reality.  
  
Sometimes Derek wished he would. Wished he could.  
  
As if to prove to him that the world would always hold him back, his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans, and he fumbled his hands out of his pockets and gloves to check the message. Cursing when he read Stiles' name on the notification.  
  
He knew this could be nothing good. The boy took the habit of giving him a call at least twice a week, but never sent him a single text, which fitted his personality, oddly.  
He never had time to type out a message, always preferring to just call instead, so receiving a single "hwpp" from him was...Disconcerting.  
  
He sent out an interrogation point.

  
As he waited for an answer, he grew more worried by each minute that passed without one, and at the eight minute mark, he decided to call.  
  
Who knew, maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe the message sent itself in Stiles' pocket, maybe the kid was drunk. Maybe he was lying in a pool of blood somewhere in an abandoned warehouse.  
  
"Come on" he growled when his phone did nothing but beep steadily in his hand, the screen getting covered by rapidly melting snow.  
  
He waited for Stiles to answer, but he never did.  
  
Growing restless, Derek tried again twice before giving up the idea. Instead, he sent new texts to the kid, ordering him to just answer his damn phone.  
  
He watched the little numbers on his screen indicating that it's been fifteen minutes since he received the text and Derek was panicking at the thought that it was already too late.  
  
But hell, what should he do ?  
  
He had no other way to contact the teenager, and of course the idiot had decided that the perfect university for him was one away from everyone he knew. It was a few hours of driving for the closest members of the pack, which were Derek and Lydia, who studied at MIT, but still too distant for emergency situations like this one.  
  
How could he make sure the teen was still safely in his dorm room ?  
  
The sheriff probably had the contact of one of his friends, right ? Or maybe a way to reach the university and send someone to check up on his son ?  
  
Derek wasn't sure if he was just acting overly worried, but better safe than sorry. Hopefully he was indeed overreacting and Stiles was just fine.  
  
But he still had the sentiment that it wasn't the case.

  
Getting irritated by the snow falling on himself and his phone, he grumbled and went with angry steps towards the nearest shelter he could see, which was an empty bus stop right outside the park. As he was walking there, he thought about his options and tried to decide on the most reasonable one.  
After a few more minutes of fruitless thinking that just got him spiraling down in negative worries, Derek decided "fuck it", pocketed his phone and took off in the direction of his apartment.  
  
A quarter of an hour later, he was sitting in his car with his hands-free kit powered as he drove around high buildings towards the entry of the highway, already calling Stiles's dad. The man, unlike his son, answered immediately and asked right off the bat what was wrong, to which Derek answered as efficiently as he could with his nerves still wound up tight. He also informed the older man that he was on his way to Washington University and would call him back when he got more information. On his side, there was nothing more the sheriff could do.  
  
Then, he tried Stiles' phone again, and sighed when there was no answer again.  
  
This was not looking good.

Derek tried texting and calling at different intervals during the drive, but it was only after over an hour and a half that Stiles finally answered a call.  
  
Only, it wasn't Stiles.  
  
" _Who is this_ ?" the voice said, which unnerved Derek.  
  
"Who are _you_ ? Where is Stiles ?" he urged, a hint of danger seeping his in voice.  
  
" _Why'd you want to know_?"  
  
Derek was going to kill that person.  
  
"Just tell me where Stiles is."  
  
The other person sighed in the phone, seemingly understanding that they wouldn't get out of that. " _He's in his bed, in his dorm. Now who are you_ ?"  
  
"Is he okay ?" Derek pressed instead of answering. He could tell the other person was keeping something to themselves.  
  
" _He's sleeping. I guess you're that guy who tried to call him all evening, his phone is on silent so it didn't wake him, but uh- I saw your calls and like enough's enough so I answered-_ "  
  
"Who are you."  
  
" _I'm his roommate dude ! And you ? You're harassing him or what_ ?"  
  
Derek was getting annoyed with this kid. He wished he could already be there so he could make sure by himself that Stiles was indeed just sleeping.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure he was alright." He grumbled into the phone, hoping it would spur the other man into more explanation.  
  
" _Are you like his boyfriend ? Cause' I know Stiles' into dudes but he's never mentioned having a-_ "  
  
"I'm not his boyfriend." the werewolf cut him off sharply. "I'm his...Friend. Now what haven't you been telling me ?"  
  
The speakers didn't let any sound out for a few seconds before the roommate breathed out and admitted that he was quite worried about the human as well. " _I found him stuck outside the dorm, didn't have his keys and was barefoot in the fucking rain and hella weird. I'm thinking he took something dude, like he had a bad trip or something_..."

  
That...Was actually a possibility. While Derek never thought Stiles would ever do any drugs, he also knew the kid went through some extreme traumatic events and he couldn't expect Stiles to have walked away from it without serious repercussions. Maybe he took up on smoking to get through, what would Derek know ? That's probably something the teen would keep from everyone.  
  
"Listen, I'm one hour away from the campus. Can you keep an eye on Stiles until then ? And call me back if anything changes ?"

The roommate easily agreed, sounding relieved that he didn't have to take care of the situation once Stiles woke up by himself, and the call ended after that.  
Checking the rear view mirror, Derek made sure the road was fairly empty as he pressed on the accelerator.

Finally, after breaking some laws, Derek was getting out of his car in the campus' parking lot, grabbing his bag of necessities and walking towards the building where he knew Stiles' room was. He'd helped him move him after all.  
  
He sent a text to Stiles' phone again, aware that his roommate would see the notification and come down to let him inside, which is exactly what he did.  
Briefly introducing themselves, the man, Diego, led him to their room while he described the worrying state of Stiles when he'd found him outside in the rain when he got back from meeting with some friends.  
  
Derek's heart squeezed achingly as he imagined the painful image.  
  
But as they were getting closer, he could hear the steady pattern of Stiles' breathing and heartbeat as he was sleeping. Soon they were entering the room and the door revealed the curled up form of the kid's body under the covers of his bed, pushing a relieved exhale out of Derek as he saw the final confirmation that he was indeed safe.  
  
Diego stood awkwardly by the door while Derek got closer and looked at the human's face, asleep and relaxed, barely peeking out of the thick comforter.  
  
"I uh-" the other human started, clearing his throat. "I helped him take off his clothes cause' they were soaked, but um. He didn't have boxers on so- and well he's still covered in mud- Uh. Hope that was okay."  
  
"You did good." Derek reassured him offhandedly as he touched Stiles' skin to make sure he wasn't in pain, frowning when he was able to drain out some. "Thank you. I'll stay there until I'm sure he's fine, if you're alright with that." He added as an afterthought, realizing just now that he couldn't just invite himself in Stiles' and Diego's room without any notice.  
  
"That's fine ! I'll even stay over at my friend's, so you two can be alone."  
  
Derek barely had the time to thank him again before the younger man was slipping out of the room, leaving the extra set of keys in the werewolf's possession.  
  
Although he was surprised at this show of unfounded trust, he was relieved Diego took the initiative to leave as there had been a heavy awkwardness between them. Now he could take care of Stiles without fearing anyone would judge their intimacy or overhearing -or seeing- supernatural things. Like the black veins that were currently crawling up Derek's forearm as he sucked out the faint sensation of pain from the sleeping body.  
  
With the hand that wasn't currently covering Stiles' smooth forehead, he gently pushed the covers back, trying to gauge where the pain was coming from. He found the answer when his gaze fell on the boy's wrist, lying by his chest, that looked rubbed raw and sported what seemed like rope marks.  
  
Confused anger filled his head as he took the thin wrist in his hand and looked at it closer, switching the pain drain to this part of Stiles' body.  
  
It looked like one single row of rope, but a thick one, had been tied tightly around the limb, and a quick check told him that the human's other hand was in the same state. The skin wasn't open, just dangerously red and burnt, but the pain was quick to fade away completely as Derek drained it out, although he could still feel some emanating from another part of his body.  
  
He carefully put Stiles' hands back where they were curled before his chest, and pushed the cover back entirely. He tried not to pay attention to Stiles' pale skin as he was completely naked, and focused on finding the other source of discomfort. As he should have guessed, it came from the teenager's ankles, which were in the same state as his wrists, the only difference being that the rope had been wrapped in multiple rows this time.  
  
Derek swallowed back his questions and theories, knowing he would have to wait until Stiles' woke up to have any answers. Still, he was itching to know what happened to him. Having rope burns wasn't a daily occurrence for regular people, after all.  
  
Once he was sure there was no pain left at all, he detachedly wrestled his legs in a pair of briefs he found in the dresser on Stiles' side of the room, covered him back up and gently caressed Stiles' head, threading his fingers through the still not-entirely dry hair, undoing the knots absent-mindedly.

  
He suddenly remembered that he had promised the sheriff to keep him updated, so he immediately called him to inform him his son was safe and alright. He didn't judge wise to tell him about the injuries or Diego's reports, choosing to clear it up with Stiles' himself before spreading speculations. Then he went back to silently observe the boy as he slept.  
  
After a while, his mind finally settled down with the fact that Stiles was safe and that he couldn't do more for the moment, that he didn't have to be on alert anymore. He was feeling his body relaxing as well, and realized how tired he actually was.  
Glancing at his phone, he became aware of how late it already was in New York, and he could suddenly feel sleep calling to him. Not even thinking about it, he took off his shoes and changed his jeans for sweatpants that were lying around and were definitively Stiles', turned off the light, before climbing up in bed beside the boy. The mattress wasn't wide enough for two adults men like them, but he pushed himself under Stiles, reveling in the feeling of his packmate's weight in his arms and the clean scent of the human and rain.

  
Soothed by the calm, sleeping, teen's breathing, he quickly fell asleep as well.

He woke up not long after that because something was poking him in the cheek, and he glanced under his heavy eyelids to see Stiles' own open eyes staring right back at him with an adorably confused expression.  
  
The room was barely illuminated by early morning light filtering through the open curtains, but Stiles' white skin was stark against the darkness of the room.  
  
Derek quickly crawled up from his deep slumber, noting how he still had his arms around the human and how this one wasn't looking right and sharp as usual.  
  
"Der'k" he let out with a breath, letting the hand that had been poking his cheek fall on the wolf's chest and curling limply there. Without thinking, the older man brought a hand higher on Stiles' back and begun siphoning the pain again. The student sagged slightly.  
  
"I'm here Stiles" he offered gently, growing confused when the boy snuggled back against him without asking more questions.  
  
Either he was still partly asleep, or there was something not right with him.  
  
Regular Stiles wouldn't act like this, and his heartbeat didn't sound like he was anywhere close to sleeping again.  
  
Puzzled, Derek pressed the boy closer to him and reassuringly rubbed his back, which made the human sigh and hitch higher up Derek's chest.  
  
Which... Weird.  
  
Was that the aftermath of something ? A bad trip ? Did everyone act like a snuggling koala after a bad trip ? Derek hadn't noticed any suspicious smell on him, though the rain had pretty much washed everything away but his natural scent. Could it be something else ?  
  
Derek tried to address the teen, but he only whined and hid his face in the werewolf's neck. When he tried to get up from the bed, leaving Stiles alone, this one began silently crying and furrowing under the comforter.  
  
Derek's heart broke.  
  
He quickly grabbed a long-sleeved sweater from his bag before hurrying back to the bed and touched Stiles' bare skin again.  
  
He didn't think what to think of it when it was enough to soothe him.  
  
Then he carefully manipulated Stiles into the shirt, and the boy's eyes opened enough to get a grasp on the situation distantly, his smell turning content at the sight of the thumb-holes covering his hands. Feeling that the human was not completely there, at least not in a normal state of mind, he indulged him and fitted the kid's fingers in the holes.

  
He tried not to be surprised when a weak hand latched onto his own and brought it back towards Stiles' chest, whose entire body slowly curled around their intertwined hands. Derek let himself be moved closer, understanding that somehow Stiles needed the contact and his presence, silently observing the lean body tighten up around his forearm.  
He reached out with his free hand to wipe the tears from his eyes and resumed his petting on the human's back and hair.  
  
"What do you need ?" he quietly asked after a moment, at a loss before what was happening, but it seemed like the question was too much because Stiles let out a distressed sound and grew agitated, so Derek was quick to reassure him and calm him down.  
  
"It's okay" he soothed, deciding that questions would be asked later because Stiles was in no state to deal with anything a the moment. "I'm here, I'm with you. You're okay."  
  
But in his head, everything was screaming at him that Stiles was everything but okay.

Eventually, the younger boy came back up enough to let Derek go to the bathroom without freaking out, but settled back down only when he was touching him again.  
  
Luckily it was Sunday, because it was already well into the afternoon when Stiles looked completely himself again. He was awake and aware, but kept silent as Derek lead him to the shower with a change of clothes and let him clean himself.  
  
Only, when Stiles shuffled back into the room, there was an uneasiness about him that the werewolf couldn't pinpoint until he shyly asked for the thumb-hole sweater back. Derek hesitated, worried that it would plunge him back into his previous state.  
  
"I- It's just, I- I need to, to be-" Stiles struggled to explain, stumbling a couple steps forward.  
  
The older man didn't exactly understand, but he finally relented and handed the teen the warm red shirt back, who promptly put it back on, careful of the thumbs. Derek couldn't help but notice how much he liked seeing his packmate dressed in his too-big clothes, and how sweetly fulfilled Stiles' scent turned.  
  
While the human had been taking his shower, Derek had tidied up his side of the room a bit. He sat on the newly made bed, wordlessly asking Stiles to join him. When he did, he didn't sit as close as he would have done earlier in the day, but the wolf could sense that there was still the slight need to be reassured and in contact with someone else. He slowly put his hand on Stiles' fabric covered one, feeling him relax under his touch.  
  
"Talk to me" he encouraged softly.  
  
The student inhaled. "I'm messed up, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm acting like that."  
  
"You can tell me the truth, it's alright." he encouraged, having caught on the lie at the last statement.  
  
Wide, open eyes, looked up at him, and Derek saw the turmoil behind them.  
  
"Promise me you won't judge me" Stiles asked with a vulnerability he'd never seen in him.  
  
"I promise. Nothing you say will make me think less of you."  
  
Stiles hesitated for a second, and then told him everything from the start.

  
"I- I don't really remember how I got here." he added after recalling how he was thrown out the door.  
  
"Do you remember that text you send me ?"  
  
By the look Stiles gave him, he could only guess the answer. "N-no ?"  
  
"It was gibberish, it was actually what made me think something was wrong." He brought the boy closer to him when it looked like he would break again. "You never send me texts."  
  
The human offered him a wobbly smile that didn't convince anyone, raising his hands to curl them in Derek's shirt and let his head fall on the older man's shoulder.  
  
"Thank you for coming." he whispered, silent and trusting. Derek nosed the back of his head under the guise of an answer.  
  
He just wanted to hide him from the world and keep him close forever.

After a while, Stiles fell asleep again. Derek didn't want to leave him alone in case he woke up before he came back, but he had to go buy cream for his injuries and take a walk around a certain building on the other side of the campus in case he would run into a certain _someone_ -  
  
He put his shoes back on, grabbed his jacket and the extra set of keys, almost left before deciding to leave Stiles a note so he didn't freak out and think Derek left for good. Then he was out.  
  
He made a quick work of finding the nearest pharmacy and asking the lovely lady for help because he actually had no clue about medicine. Only minutes later he was back on campus with a bottle of ointment in his pocket, heading to the house were Stiles said Charles lived.  
  
He didn't really think he would run into the man, and Stiles' description of him was vague enough to illustrate about any early-twenties male college student. Sadly he didn't have a lot of chances to scare the Junior into never crossing the younger man's path ever again.  
  
Although, as he approached the building anyway, he noticed a bundle of clothing lying carelessly a few meters from the entrance. At first, he didn't pay it any more attention than a glance, but he then caught the sight of a pair of converses lying half under the soaked red fabric and recalled Diego telling him he found Stiles barefoot. He walked closer, now recognizing the familiar red hoodie, and grabbed the pieces of clothing, noting the jingle of keys in the shirt's pocket.  
  
Heading back to Stiles' dorm room, he tried not to imagine a disoriented boy making the same trip as he was doing right now, shivering under heavy rain and stumbling on his bruised legs. He tried not to think about what could have happened to him if anyone malignant decided to take advantage of the defenseless kid.  
  
He saw red, pondering over how thoughtless and heartless that guy had been to just throw a younger boy out in the rain like a sick dog, and dump out his stuff like he had just expelled a poor tenant.

  
He saw a coffee shop on his right, went in to buy a piece of cake for Stiles and two drinks, coffee for himself and a cloyingly sweet hot chocolate for the human, figuring it was something he would like.  
  
When he reached Stiles' door, he breathed deeply to let any trace of anger out, and let himself inside, finding the boy exactly where he left him.

  
Curled up under a blanket, all warm and cozy. Safe and sleeping.  
  
With a wide space left on the bed for Derek to occupy.


End file.
